


A Sly Mouth

by morrisdoesntdance



Category: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018)
Genre: Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, M/M, Repaying Debt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:34:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23850148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrisdoesntdance/pseuds/morrisdoesntdance
Summary: 'Dryden Vos wants a word with you.'
Relationships: Tobias Beckett/Dryden Vos
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7
Collections: May the 4th Be With You Star Wars Fanworks Exchange 2020





	A Sly Mouth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MiriamKenneath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriamKenneath/gifts).



'Dryden Vos wants a word with you.' The Theelin whom Vos had sent as his messenger leered at Beckett. Showed what he knew. Beckett had paid off his last debt to Beckett. He wasn't being called on the carpet like some poorly trained servant.

That's what Beckett kept telling himself.

As regally as he could, he said, 'Tell Vos my team will join him shortly.'

The Theelin tilted his head. 'Just you. Dryden Vos has no use for your comrades. You will come with me now.'

The cool fear Beckett had been ignoring squirmed in his belly. 'Right.' He turned his head, not letting himself look back all the way to see the worried expression on Val's face, nor the growing fear on Rio's. 'I'll meet you at the usual place.' The moment Beckett was gone, they'd take the ship and flee to one of the safe houses they'd set up over the years.

Dryden Vos lived aboard a luxurious yacht. As hideouts went, a mobile base held some pretty sweet advantages. Beckett had thought about getting them a good ship after the next big job. Dryden might even be offering him that job today. Beckett let his optimism lighten his steps as he left his weapons up front, following the Theelin into the reception area. Beckett was left with a drink in his hand and the unsolicited braggadocio of a drunk bounty hunter.

When Beckett was ushered into Dryden's private office, he looked around his occasional employer's private museum, gawking at what might be Jedi artefacts and might be junk from a cheap Zinthrexi carnival game. It paid to look overawed and impressed when someone wanted to impress you.

'Ah, Beckett!' said Vos. 'So glad you could join me. Do sit.'

Beckett took a comfortable seat on one long sofa. Dryden sat opposite him on another. 'Did you enjoy the party outside?'

Didn't seem like much of a party. Seemed like a lot of people nervous about the plans of the man staring at him now. 'Had a ball. Did you know that bounty hunter Errolt brought in some guy with the death penalty in four systems?'

'So I've heard. Many times.' The smile on Dryden's face became pained, and Beckett relaxed. Just two men chatting over their mutual disdain for a third. 'I apologize for my long-winded acquaintance. I fear I'm going to have to kill him one of these days simply to shut him up.' He chuckled, and Beckett joined in the chuckle because when a man like Dryden Vos joked about killing someone, you didn't want to be the punchline.

Dryden might be talking about killing but he didn't seem in that mood. Beckett had watched enough corpses dragged out of this office to know what his face looked like when he wanted blood. He seemed jovial now, pleased at Beckett's presence. There was a lingering silence between them. Beckett wasn't foolish enough to run into it with his mouth.

Dryden waited him out, then gaze him a more appraising look. 'You must wonder why I asked you to come.'

'The question did come to mind. I assumed you had your reasons.'

'I do. About the cargo you so kindly obtained for Crimson Dawn.'

Beckett nodded amiably, pleased with himself for a job well done on that. Even as he bent his neck, he felt the snap of the trap when Dryden said, 'I'd like to know where the rest of it went.'

'Rest?' Beckett thought back in a hurry. They hadn't stolen anything from the haul, right? He'd warned Val and Rio over and over not to swipe their own take from a gangster like Vos. Neither of them was stupid enough to try even if he hadn't. 'As far as I know, you got the whole thing.'

Dryden's smile didn't slip. 'When my people opened the container, there was less than half of what the manifest said. Imperials are sloppy, but they can count.'

The note of terror playing inside Beckett's eardrum started a pulsing beat. 'We delivered what was asked. I didn't open the container. The terms on delivery were an uncracked seal.'

'I know the terms.' The smile was gone. 'I also know the terms were a full container of fifty disruptors, not fewer than twenty.'

If Vos thought Beckett had stolen from him, he was a dead man. He kept his voice calm. 'We never opened it. Maybe one of the Imps got the bright idea to sell some black market guns on his own.' 

'It wouldn't be the first time.' Dryden looked pensive. 'I believe you. You're too smart to steal from Crimson Dawn. I've always said so.' To whom, he didn't say. 'I can't simply let this go, Beckett. You must understand. It breeds discontent and disloyalty in my other assets.'

Beckett nodded. 'I can make it up to you. Just say the word. If you've got a job for me, I'll take it.'

Dryden's eyes fixed on his, and drifted down to Beckett's lips. 'I can think of a task you can do for me. To demonstrate your loyalty and your eagerness to please.'

'Anything,' said Beckett, and there was his fool mouth running into trouble.

Vos stood, and unfastened his trousers as Beckett's insides froze. 'Good. I like your attitude.' He stepped closer. Beckett let his own trouble-making mouth get him out of this one.


End file.
